#mind control whump

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

I think the best mind control for whump is the type that doesn’t hurt. Hell, make it feel good even; a relaxing numbness over a once panicking mind, a warm pride at each fulfilled order. Control that makes you want to obey just as much as it forces you to.

Make the control sweet, tempting. Make them want to obey; don’t just break their will, make it submit to you. It’ll make their absolute horror and disgust at their actions all the sharper once they break free.

It’s easy to know you fought when you have the memory of the pain to remind you. It’s easier to justify defeat at the hands of overwhelming force and pain, the crushing of the will. But how can Whumpee look at the soft seduction of their will, the almost pleasant corruption of their morals, and believe that they truly tried their best to resist it. They remember how it felt. They remember liking it. And that memory makes one glaring question inescapable: were they defeated, or did they give in?

[marvel-ous-whump]

Magical Mind Control that completely shuts down a Whumpee's mind. leaving them a obedient shell when "Activated" by Whumper. and in a deep, magical sleep when "Deactivated." When Caretaker finds them and rescues them, it takes days for Whumpee to come out from under Whumper's magical influence.

Post Rescue timeline: Days 1-4; Whumpee just floats in darkness. It's quiet, heavy and blissful. Day 5: Whumpee becomes distantly aware of a voice talking to them. it's not Whumper, but comforting none the less. Day 8: Whumpee manages to open their eyes a little. but everything is blurry. Someone's holding them, a hand is in their hair, Whumpee doesn't quite know who it is, but they know they trust this person more than anyone else in the world. Day 12: A light goes off in Whumpee's brain like a lighthouse in pea soup fog. Caretaker! It's Caretaker who's with them. they wish they could speak Caretaker's name, but they're just so Sleepy, they don't have the energy.

Day 13: Whumpee comes to breifly when Caretaker's gently spoon-feeding them some soup. giving Caretaker a feeble smile. Day 15: Whumpee finally wakes up clear-headed and lucid to a teary-eyed Caretaker, hoarsely whispering "Hey."

[abhainnwhump]

Whumpee is fighting Whumper with a group of their friends. Whumpee and Whumper fight one on one and Whumper pins Whumpee down. They don't understand what is happening at first, but then Whumper pushes their palm against Whumpee's head. It starts with burning, then screaming, then the world goes dark. Whumper removes their hand and Whumpee has a mind control rune on their forehead.

"Stand up." Whumpee obeys Whumper's command. With a snap of their fingers, Whumper points to Whumpee's friends. "Kill them."

[whumpsoda]

I raise that anon who raised you.

Vampire keeps their thrall hypnotized so they do all the chores without making a fuss and so they don't accidentally hurt themselves bruising or spilling any of their precious blood.

Whumpee breaks out of it randomly by something silly like a sneeze and comes back to hella confusing circumstances.

WOHEO Masterlist

Love this sm. Kinda mad cause I wrote all of it and then realized I was originally gonna go in a very different direction😭

cw: hypnosis, dehumanization, vampire whumper, human whumpee

———————————————————————

Nevan smiled contentedly to himself as a pile of dust flew into the pan. The broom, brittle and old scratched against the hardwood flooring of the mansion. Satisfied, he carefully poured the dust pan’s contents into a nearby trash can.

He had almost done all of the cleaning for the abode, the only room left being one of the many dedicated for storage. Nevan always felt exceedingly proud of himself for fulfilling his sanitation duties so well, even if there wasn’t much to clean when he repeated the same tasks every single day.

Darius liked his home spotless, and Nevan was more than happy to oblige to the wills of his master. Cleaning was the one thing he was notably good at, subsequently making it his sole job in Darius’ home. Besides being a food source, of course.

Transferring to the next room to be cleaned, Nevan was giddy with the thought of receiving his promised reward. 

Cleaning was his purpose, his sole job in life, so there was really no need for a reward. Yet, Darius was so kind hearted and generous, that he always promised his thrall a reward for his work. Whether it be presenting him with another place to cleanse or an extra feeding for that week, Nevan was over the moon simply with knowing he had pleased the vampire.

Nevan studied the mess he was presented with. The storage rooms were always a bit arduous to take care of, mainly due to the overwhelming clutter that had formed over centuries. 

He began with a smaller brush, sweeping the tops of boxes and junk. Before he knew it, whatever dirt inhabited the room had unsurprisingly mixed with the air, floating into and itching at his nostrils. 

He leaned his head back, readying himself for a sneeze.

Seering pain sliced through his brain as his body forcibly doubled over, almost as if splitting his head in half. Nevan clutched his head desperately, stumbling and slipping over his feet. He pulled frantically at his hair, the agony spreading to his scalp as well.

The human dropped onto sore knees, expelling a distraught whine. He panted heavily, attempting to settle himself. 

Luckily, after an endless repetition of deep, calming breaths, the pain subsided into a faint throb. Nevan groaned, rubbing at his tear prickled eyes. Out of reach thoughts danced inside his mind, too rapid to be coherent.

Holding his head in one hand, he forced open his soggy eyes. Gazing down at his own lap, confusion began to settle in.

How did-? Why was he…? Cleaning supplies?

Clutching the short broom in his hand, he noticed what was under it. “What?” He groaned, grabbing at the fabric covering his lower body. Whatever it was, it was large, frilly, and itchy, a terrible combination.

Nevan felt around, pressing his palms to the floor and pushing himself onto wobbly legs. He clung to a tall stack of cardboard boxes, his knees buckling. He took in the room, filled to the brim with piled up rubbish. 

Particularly, Nevan’s gaze landed on a long, thin mirror several feet away. He shuddered, digesting the image of the figure reflected. 

It was him. The reflection held Nevan’s eyes, Nevan’s moles, Nevan’s nose, yet they looked so different. Like a failed clone. His hair was lengthy with a healthy shine, his face and body meticulously clean shaven, and he wore a grand, luxurious dress. 

Worrying of all, were the achining wounds in his neck. Red, oozing and sore, Nevan gaped at the sight.

It couldn’t be him. Nevan didn’t do those things. He kept his hair short and easily manageable, he never gave a second thought to body and facial hair, and he sure as hell had never been very comfortable in a dress. He began grabbing at the excessive tool covering his thighs, trying to ease the irritation on his skin.

Once again, the burning sensation returned full force, tearing apart his brain in a wave of remembrance. 

Fear settled over him, a whimper catching in his throat. He was in a vampire’s home. Caught in a web of mind-bending magic, and by some miracle had broken through. His breathing quickened, short and frantic. 

What would he do? What could he do? If he got caught, there wasn’t a chance he’d ever get the opportunity to escape again. Maybe the monster would be so angry, they’d kill him.

“Nevan? Are you almost finished with your chores?” His heart stopped. Nevan lifted a trembling hand to his mouth, pushing his back against the objects behind him. “Where are you?” They called. 

Nevan slid down the boxed, landing on his bottom. Darius was close. Too close. If he tried to leave now, he would surely be caught, but the same was ensured if he didn’t.

Footsteps picked up, the clicking sound of Darius’ heels growing closer. “There you are.” Carefully, Nevan turned his head to face the beast, meeting a wicked grin. “Are you ready for your reward? I’m especially hungry today.” They said, adjusting the collar of their jacket.

Nevan let out a whimper and a snivel, alarms blaring inside his head. The vampire paused, studying him, his smile contorting into a confused frown. “What’s wrong? What did you do? You shouldn’t look like that.” 

Darius reached their hand out, taking several steps toward the human. Instinctively, Nevan hysterically crawled in the opposite direction, knocking over a pile of random contents. 

Darius met the other man’s stare, his eyes just as wide-eyed as Nevan. Slowly, as if faced with a wild animal, he descended to the floor, resting one knee to the ground. As the human continued to make a mess, Darius reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a glistening little item between two fingers.

Nevan recognized it instantly, squealing with terror as he violently shook his head. “Please! Don’t, please, I can’t-!” Ignoring the human’s pleads, Darius lightly began ringing the tiny bell in his hand. 

The ringing, no matter how light, how delicate, held a commanding, unexplainable presence. Betrayed by his own body, Nevan was unable to cover his ears as means of blocking the noise. The sound was soft, almost musical, causing Nevan’s terrified heart to flutter against his will.

“Come here, little servant.” The vampire sang. He began to lean into the constant ringing, as well as the glossy voice of his owner. “That’s right, return back to master.” Darius beckoned him over, settling onto both knees comfortably. 

The matter of his mind was melting, replaced with the weight of the bell’s authority. Lazily, the terrified shake if his body liquefying, Nevan shifted onto his hands and knees. Mesmerized by the sound licking his ears, he clumsily crawled closer, to Darius’ satisfaction.

“Good boy, almost there. Nothing is more important than the bell, isn’t that right?” The movement of the object never ceased. 

He smiled. That was right. It was Nevan’s bell, captivating and alluring. The only thing possibly more significant was Darius.

He soon reached the vampire, resting onto his knees with glazed over eyes. Darius gently placed the bell to the floor, ending the loop of hypnotic noise. He tenderly cupped Nevan’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

The vampire took a moment to adjust Nevan’s body, picking up limbs and turning his face as if he was searching for something. After a moment, he let out a sigh of relief. “I would’ve been very upset if you managed to lose some of your delectable blood in all that panic. Fortunate for you, it seems you didn’t.”

Nevan would’ve been utterly distraught had he made such a mistake. What a terrible thrall he was even risking it. “Now, are you ready for your reward?” He nuzzled into his master’s comforting touch.

In no other universe could he have been more ready.

[redd956]

Whump peoples! Thoughts?

Whumper turned whumpee situation where Caretaker is using mind control on whumper

[ziptiesnfries]

Persuasion, part 1

(Loosely based off of this post by @whumpshaped)

CWs: mind control, whumper POV, kidnapping, restraints

Everyone loved Gianna Jennings. Her friends said she gave the best hugs. Her fans adored her makeup tutorials, and even her most vocal critics had to agree that she was charming in person. Gianna wasn’t sure how old she was when she first noticed it—really noticed it. All her life, her family had adored her, and even strangers would bend over backwards to please her. She’d always been affectionate, so maybe that was why it took so long to notice: it was her touch. Any skin-to-skin contact made the people around her much more agreeable. The effects only intensified the more she learned to control it.

Of course, she never let it get out of hand. But what was a talent like this for if not to be used? It served her well with getting sponsorships when she launched her career as a beauty guru. Most of her job happened online, but after years of building up her charisma, she knew how to work her audience. She didn’t need touch to draw people in, but when it came to in-person contact, it certainly gave her a boost.

Having the whole world at her fingertips was lovely, but it wasn’t very exciting. She wondered what it would feel like to make someone hate her—really, truly hate her—and what would happen if, then, she used her powers on them. The thought of it was more than a little alluring. It sounded complicated, interesting, real.

She decided to go hunting.

After visiting the same club a few weekends in a row, Gianna had finally found her target. They were smaller than Gianna, and always wore short skirts and tank tops—the kind of outfit that would give her ample opportunity to use her powers. Every weekend, without fail, the target arrived at the club with the same group of friends and spent the entire time sitting in a corner, texting. They seemed utterly disinterested in everything around them, even their friends—although, given the interactions she’d seen, Gianna was hesitant to label them as friends. Others who tried to approach the target had been met with either apathy or outright hostility.

They were perfect.

Gianna had already been at the club for an hour, chatting people up, when her target slouched in behind their usual group of three others. One of them, a tall girl with long brown hair, looked similar enough to be related to the target—a sister, maybe a cousin—and she interacted with them the most. The other two, another girl and a boy, hardly spoke to the target at all.

Gianna watched as the group claimed a table, and the boy went off to the bar. The two girls sat next to each other, chatting and laughing. The target was already slumped down in their chair, eyes glued to their phone, their bleached bangs obscuring half their face. When the boy came back with the drinks, he only brought three, depositing two in front of the girls and one in front of himself. The target didn’t seem to notice or care.

Gianna kept an eye out as she circled the room. The three friends took a while to drain their drinks before they finally headed for the dance floor. The brown haired girl hung back for a moment, tugging at the target’s arm. The target yanked away, and although Gianna couldn’t hear across the club, it looked like they’d snapped at the girl. The girl stormed off, and the target was left alone.

Gianna took her time, idly circling the club before she sidled up to the target’s table. “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” 

They gave no indication that they’d heard her. The blue glow from their screen reflected in their bored eyes and highlighted glitter on their cheekbones. She could just barely hear their response over the music. “Who said I was trying to be?”

Instinctively, her wrist twitched to touch their shoulder, but she lowered her hand quickly. She was wearing lacy, elbow-length gloves to ensure that there weren’t any slip-ups. She didn’t want to use her powers—not yet, anyway. She laughed. “That’s cute.” She leaned on the table, tilting her head. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

The target’s eyes flicked up. They scanned her face for a moment before turning back to their phone.

“I’m Gianna.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Really, though, what’s someone as pretty as you doing by yourself?”

Finally, they lowered their phone and gave her an exaggerated eye-roll. “None of your business,” they said, enunciating each word.

It was like talking to a brick wall. Gianna could see why everyone who had spoken to them had given up. Even she was tempted to take off her glove and touch their hand, just to get them to open up a little. But she refrained; the whole point was for them to hate her, and it seemed like that was going well. She pouted. “Oh, come on. You don’t even have a drink. I’ll get you one, okay?”

As she headed for the bar, she thought she heard them mutter, “Don’t come back.” She grinned to herself. She couldn’t have chosen a better target.

When she returned, they hadn’t moved an inch. She slid their glass across the table, and they kept texting. “I don’t drink,” they said.

“It’s seltzer.” It wasn’t, and they’d know right away if they took a sip, but they didn’t even glance at the glass. She stirred her own drink with her finger and wondered how to provoke them. Clearly they weren’t interested in playing her game, and that was what she’d expected, but she needed the tables to turn in her favor a little if she wanted to take them home tonight.

“Don’t care,” they said dismissively. “I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

“That’s smart.” She smiled and rested her chin in her hand as she leaned forward. “But I think you deserve to have some fun. Don’t you?”

They shot her a scathing side-eye. “I’d be having a lot more fun if you weren’t—”

“Oh my god, Shelby!”

Their head jerked up, and Gianna turned to see the brown-haired girl from earlier approaching the table, her two friends in tow. All of them looked tipsy, but the brown-haired girl seemed just a tad more wasted than the others, casually gripping the table for balance. Gianna suppressed a grin as she turned to her target. “Friends of yours?” she asked innocently.

The girl didn’t seem to hear her. “Oh my god, Shelby,” she repeated, turning to the target. “Are you actually talking to someone for once? I never thought you’d—”

“Shut up,” they hissed, lowering their phone into their lap as they glared at the girl. “I’m not—”

“We were just having a little chat,” Gianna interrupted. She extended a hand over the table. “I’m Gianna.”

The girl shook her hand limply. “I’m Taylor.” She was talking too loud, even for the background noise of the club. “And that’s Anna and Tate. And of course you know my baby sibling, Shelby.” She squeezed their shoulder.

Shelby jerked away, their elbow missing their untouched drink by an inch. “Fuck off!”

Taylor pouted at them sarcastically. “Oh, sorry, was I interrupting something?” She shot Gianna a suggestive grin.

“I said, fuck off!” They crossed their arms, their phone clutched tightly in their hand. “Can we just go already?”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “We just got here. Why don’t you go home with someone else for once? Loosen up, have a little fun!”

Shelby’s arms tightened around their chest, and they opened their mouth to protest. “I’d be more than happy to help with that,” Gianna cut in.

Blush rose to Shelby’s face. “Yeah, I’m sure you fucking would.” Their chair nearly toppled as they got to their feet. “Whatever, I’m calling an Uber.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “You’re such a killjoy.” They didn’t dignify her with a response before storming off across the club.

Taylor didn’t seem keen to go after her, and the other two hung back, exchanging uncomfortable glances. Gianna gave them all a sympathetic smile before she turned to pursue her prey.

She found Shelby near the entrance, tapping furiously at their phone screen. “Hey,” she said, just loud enough to be heard over the noise. They stiffened, but they didn’t turn toward her. “I’m sorry if I was being too forward. Do you need a ride home?”

Their back was still turned, but she heard them snort. “Like that’s not the most forward thing I’ve ever heard. I’ll take an Uber, thanks.”

She approached casually, sliding an arm around their shoulders. They stiffened as she leaned in close and murmured, “Come on, let me drive you home. It’s the least I can do.”

Her lips brushed their ear, and that was all it took. The tension melted out of their shoulders, their phone lowering. They were quiet for a moment before they cleared their throat. “I … guess you could take me halfway there?”

She squeezed their shoulder before letting go. They’d feel the effects of her touch for another few minutes, and she’d sneak in another dose along the way. Of course, she’d prefer not to use it at all, but Shelby was a difficult target. A little persuasion would be necessary. “I’d be glad to,” she murmured.

Gianna took off her gloves to drive. Shelby was quiet in the passenger seat, their face turned out the window, their phone all but forgotten in their lap. “What’s your address?” she asked.

They didn’t turn their head, but their voice still sounded a little distant as they said, “You can drop me off at the corner of Fourth and Fremont. I’ll give you directions.”

“Oh, no worries. I know where that is.” Her house was that way, anyway—just a little farther down. Maybe Shelby actually lived near her; that was an interesting thought. “I really am sorry about earlier, by the way,” she added. “I know I can be a little pushy. And your sister … well, she didn’t seem very nice.”

They blew out a sigh that lifted their bleached bangs, propping their chin in their hand. “Fucking tell me about it. She’s a real asshole sometimes.”

Gianna suppressed a grin. “Oh? What’s she like?”

“She thinks I should worship the ground she walks on just because she’s letting me live with her.” They rolled their eyes. “I’d appreciate the favor more if it didn’t come with so many fucking strings attached.” They cut off abruptly and glanced at Gianna. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

“That’s alright.” The car was rapidly approaching the corner Shelby wanted to be dropped at. Gianna leaned over and laid a hand on Shelby’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of her power flow through her palm. “Are you sure you want to go home, then? Maybe it would be nice to spend a night away from her. She sounds so overbearing.”

When she glanced over, Shelby’s lips were parted, their eyes halfway glazed as they gazed out the windshield. “I, um …” Gianna removed her hand, allowing the poor thing to think a little more easily. They blinked hard a few times. “She is overbearing,” they admitted.

Giddiness rose up in Gianna’s chest, but she couldn’t let it show. She rarely allowed herself to play with people like this, but god, it was fun. “Well,” she said, in her best logical, concerned tone, “take a break from her, then. It’ll be good for you.”

The intersection passed by, and Shelby blinked again as they realized. “Where are you …?”

“You can stay the night in my guest bedroom.” Gianna’s voice was pleasant and soothing, trained to perfection. Her powers may have only worked through touch, but people always responded well to her words, too. “You won’t have to see your sister again tonight.”

“Alright,” Shelby agreed quietly. Their hands rested in their lap, their eyes forward. “Thanks.” Gianna smiled.

It didn’t take much longer to get to Gianna’s house, a quaint two-story home in a quiet neighborhood. It was a bit big for one person, but Gianna had always liked it, and the extra space came in handy for guests. Shelby was quiet and pliant as Gianna led them inside, a gentle hand between their shoulder blades. The lightest touch was enough to keep them relaxed all the way up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.

Once they were in the room, Shelby paused, trying to gather their wits. “Ah … thanks for letting me stay over.”

“Of course.” Gianna smiled, her heart thumping. “Could you come in here with me for a moment?” She nodded toward the guest bathroom, attached at one end of the room.

They looked confused, but with her thumb rubbing circles between their shoulder blades, they followed her into the bathroom. She flicked on the lights and casually grabbed the pair of handcuffs she’d left on the counter earlier. Shelby looked even more confused at the clink of metal, and when they spotted the cuffs, they stiffened.

They made to pull away, but Gianna grabbed their wrist, channeling her power into the touch. Their phone cracked against the floor as they dropped it. “It’s okay,” she murmured, like she was soothing a frightened animal. Her heart pounded. She’d never done this before—never tried to calm someone over anything truly objectionable. She wasn’t even sure whether it would work. Shelby’s wide, fearful eyes flicked from the handcuffs to Gianna’s face, and she smiled at them reassuringly as she gripped their wrist. “It’s alright; you’re okay.”

Their mouth was agape, struggling to protest, but their body was like putty in her hands. One cuff clicked around their wrist, and Gianna gently guided them closer to the towel bar before looping the chain around and securing their other wrist.

“Good.” She removed her hands and stepped back to admire them, feeling giddy that it had actually worked. They twisted their neck after her, their lips still slightly parted, distress in their eyes. She scooped their cracked phone off the ground and smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be back soon, okay?” Their bewildered gaze followed her as she shut them in the bathroom to wait for the effects to wear off.

Read part 2 here

[rookthebird]

a character tending to someone who’s been brainwashed to hate him. all he wants to do is cradle them in his arms and swear revenge on the brainwashers. instead they stare at him with hatred and fury and he has to be so, so careful.

“this is your room. the door only locks from the inside, so you can keep me out.” (it hurts to be so close and yet so far)

“I’m leaving the tray outside the door. Let me know if you want me to prove it’s not drugged.” (please please believe me I would never do anything to hurt you)

“you’re free to leave anytime you want.” (if they get you again, they could erase the last of your sanity, the remainder of what makes you *you.* stay where I can protect you. stay with me. heal.)

[bandits-whump-collection]

A Whumpee whose been transformed into a husk of their former self. Whether through mind control, transformation, training, or anything that could completely change a person, they're nothing more than a violent monster to their friends. The very friends who now have exhausted all other options, and have no choice but to put down Whumpee.

In their last moments, writhing in pain, clarity comes back to them just long enough for a last coherent sentence. Fear, anger, relief, it could be anything, and it would be just as heartbreaking.

How do their companions respond to such a thing...?

[whump-queen]

Im curious of ur upcoming works sooo 🌹

yay i’m so glad!! here u go >.<

WIP preview #2 (ask game) 

From: The Siren (2/2)

(first preview here)

“How long has it been, do you suppose, that you’ve been mine?” 

Each word echoed off the smooth marble floor, melting together into a low velvety hum that rippled gently across the tiles. 

“I don’t know, Majesty. I’m sorry.” The responding voice was lighter—calm, serene even.

The marble glistened faintly where the sunlight danced. Soft and refracted, it flickered over the two figures and the tall white pillars that surrounded them, casting everything in the glimmering shades of white and blue that only arrived when the distant sun shone through. 

“Have you any idea what year it is?”

There was the faintest hesitation.

“I’m— I don’t…know, Majesty.” 

The barest hint of trepidation now laced their voice, seeping in slow and thick like a low fog. 

“Mmn, no. I don’t suppose you do.” 

There was a hint of a soft chuckle before the darker voice shifted.

“Would you like to remember?” 

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Whumptember day 10

“What are you doing to them?” Brainwashed | Hanging from their wrists | Phone call

It felt like their brain was vibrating. All they could hear or feel was an endless buzzing, like all their atoms were trying to pull apart from one another. It was overwhelming, muffling any sensations from the outside world. They couldn't hear, they couldn't think. Their brain was vibrating.

It’d hurt, before. Or they thought it had. They couldn’t remember much before the buzzing had started, but they remembered struggling against the feeling. Had they fought because it hurt? Because it was bad? They didn't remember.

They didn’t struggle now. They didn’t know how, when the entire world was vibrating.

It was like bees had taken residence in their skull; not to harm it, but to reshape it. Everything useless was tossed away, the gaping holes being filled with honey. They’d fought to stop it, but then the memory of why they were fighting had been drowned in sticky sweetness.

It was dizzying and disorienting, it put their teeth on edge, but they didn’t know if it hurt. They couldn’t know anything, not when their brain was vibrating.

They heard voices somewhere outside of their hive they’d become, distant and nearly drowned out.

“What…what is this? What are you doing to them?”

“Hero, you’re aware of our reformation project, yes? Villain is our first patient.”

Just barely, they could hear the voices approaching.

“I–So you’re what, brainwashing them? Is this ethical? Does it hurt?”

Yes, the thought bubbled through the buzzing, it does, please it–

”No, not at all. It’s entirely painless.”

–doesn’t hurt? No, it doesn’t, but didn’t it before? They weren’t sure anymore. The question was being thrown away alongside the other trash, swallowed up and drowned out. They quickly lost hold of it.

Something touched a distant part of their body, and it took a long moment for them to realize they were more than their buzzing skull. Something had been holding their arms aloft, and with a click, it released. They nearly fell forward without the support, but something wrapped around their face held them up, pulling at their scalp.

“Villain, can you hear me? It’s Hero,” The voice was back, closer, but still muffled by the chaos in their mind. It felt like the voice reminded them of something, but they didn’t know. The part of their brain that had known had been scooped out and replaced, leaving barely the shape of a memory.

Something clicked, the noise echoing in the mind, and the buzzing sharpened. They shivered at the sensation of their brain finally sitting still, the see of static shifting into an organized effort.

“Stand up,” The voice wasn’t muffled by the noise, it was the noise. The vibration was shaped by the words, speaking with power that they felt in their bones.

It was a relief, and they chased after that peace. They stood on legs they hardly remembered they had.

Something was moving on their head, whatever had been wrapped around their skull being removed. The world exploded into color, the change taking them a moment to adjust to. When they opened their eyes, two figures stood before them.

The vibrating was already coming back, their moment of peace fading. But then one of the figures clicked a button they held in their hands, and everything sharpened.

“Tell me, who are you and what do you want?”

They hadn’t known the answer seconds ago. They still didn’t know, and yet the truth formed in their mind. After the disorientating chaos, the confidence they felt at their answer was a comfort.

And outside of the angry hive Villain’s mind had become, Hero watched, a horrified onlooker, as their former foe’s face split with a vacant, dull-eyed smile.

“My name is Sidekick, and I want to help you in any way possible.”

[dinosaurswant2rule]

A new chapter in my MacGyver's been captured by Murdoc and tortured story

@rosieblogstuff - thank you for helping me exercise a bit of self control and not start another WIP :D

@ghostly-prompts - this was born from this prompt

Prompt #588 Soft little thing. So strong, yet so fragile

The premise is Mac after being missing for weeks on end turns up wounded and filthy in the foundation and pulls a gun

[abhainnwhump]

Under mind control, Whumpee has no idea what they're doing. Then Whumper sets them free. Whumpee realizes they've done so much damage, they've harmed and killed so many people, they beg to go back under it. At least they won't feel or remember the pain.

[whumpsoda]

Fixed

I really love this :D

Fixed Part 2 Fixed Part 3 

cw: kinda pet whumpish

———————————————————————

“Villain?”

He looked like Villain, but at the same time, he didn’t. 

The man on the floor looked wrong. 

Villain’s once slick, shiny hair was now greasy and matted, his fraim unhealthily skinny, and his eyes surrounded by dark rings. 

Not only Villain’s appearance, but the whole situation, was alarming for hero.

 He was in Superhero's home for the first time ever, even while being Superhero’s successor. Hero had been invited for a “special occasion”, which it definitely was, and nothing could have prepared him for it. 

Villain, the cunning, criminal genius, was on his knees, above the icy floor of Superhero’s apartment, staring upwards at Hero in awe.

“Hero, sir!” A wide, genuine smile spread across Villain’s face, squishing his sunken cheeks. 

Hero was frozen still, the sight in front of him seeping into every inch of his brain. He almost didn’t notice Villain’s next move. Hero jerked his entire body backwards, almost ramming into the wall. 

Villain should’ve been fighting, screaming, throwing insults, just like he had when he had been arrested months prior. When Hero arrested him. 

Instead, Villain had been bent down kissing his shoes. 

Hero’s.

Shoes.

It couldn’t be Villain. Villain would have never done anything remotely similar, not ever, and he definitely wouldn’t have done it of his own free will. 

“N-no!” Hero exclaimed, an expression of shock and disdain on his face. In return, Villain's face fell.

“I’m sorry sir! Please, I-I didn’t mean to upset you!” Villain looked frantic, Hero had never seen him so unkempt before.

“Villain what’s- don’t call me- are you in danger? What’s going-”

“Sir,” Villain met his eyes, a smile returning to his distressed expression. “I’m finally better for you. I’m good. Superhero sir says so.” His hands clinged onto one another, as if begging to Hero. 

The slender man swiftly crawled closer to Hero, and clasped with weak hands onto Hero’s pant legs. 

“I’m a good boy, sir. I promise. I worked so hard.

For you.”

Before Hero could react, a rough hand clutched to his shoulder. 

“You like your gift? I worked pretty hard on it.” Superhero bent down, ruffling a large hand through Villain’s shaggy hair. Villain visibly leaned into the touch, his wide smile returning fully. 

“What… what happened, Superhero?” Hero managed, eager to shove the rising bile back down to his stomach.

“You’re pretty surprised, aren’t’cha? I guess I would be too if my nemesis was groveling at my feet.” A deep laugh echoed throughout the room. Superhero walked leisurely toward the kitchen area. “Let’s sit down first, I’ll have the pet make us some tea.”

“Superhero.” The footsteps ceased.

“Tell me what happened.”

A moment passed filled with silence. Hero’s gaze burning a hole through Superhero’s head.

“Damn kid, okay. Didn’t realize you’d be so excited to find out.” Hero’s fists tightened. “You remember when you captured him, yeah? Ah, he was so different then, so fiesty.” His fingers twisted through Villain’s hair.

“Well he didn’t go to prison like you thought he did. He was instead, the first patient in a program set to reprogram villains. To fix them.

And that’s exactly what I did to him.”

Villain nodded excitedly. “Yes sir, yes! I’m fixed now, I’m good!” Superhero’s mouth curled upwards. 

“And now that you’re fixed, pet, what are you?” A bead of sweat trickled down Hero’s face.

“Hero sir’s, I’m his.” 

“Like I said Hero,

A gift.”

[redd956]

Whump Ideas: Possession/Mind Control

Picture this! A whumpee has been possessed, by what? I mean you have plenty of options, especially in the supernatural factor. Demons? Ghosts? Whumper with mind control or possession ability?

Either way there is a lot of whump protential in this here department. A whumpee or character (potentially aware) not in control of their body or actions, acting as the puppet to someone or something else.

Ideas

Possession/mind control is painful. Either painful to try to go against, painful to exit, whatever. Whumpee cannot bear it.

Whumpee being forced to hurt themselves (with Caretaker frantically trying to stop them)

Whumpee being forced to Caretaker or someone they care about

Whumper is possessed to the whumping

Possessed Whumpee destroying their friendships, berating their Caretaker, telling loved ones they never loved them, etc.

Possessed Caretaker turning on Whumpee like Whumper previous did, destroying the trust that can likely never be formed again

A Hero’s horrific realization when they figure out that Villain is possessed

A team refuses to believe Whumpee didn’t act on their own volition

Whumpee no longer trusting other supernatural entities

Possessed Whumperee breaking through it, confessing to Whumpee before losing themselves again

Whumpee begins to think that it is all their fault, and can’t be convinced otherwise

Whumpee fighting back doing far more harm than good

Whumpee being forced to work for Whumper

Stoic Whumper = Possessed terrified Whumpee (these are the same picture)

[ziptiesnfries]

Persuasion, part 2

Read Part 1 here

CWs: whumper POV, kidnapping, mind control, gaslighting, belting/whipping with a belt, restraints, noncon touch

It only took ten minutes for the shouting to start. Gianna sat placidly on her couch and listened to the muffled curses coming from upstairs. It turned out that Shelby was very creative when pissed off; Gianna was excited to hear what they’d come up with under real duress.

Still, she didn’t rush it—she wanted to make sure her influence was well and truly out of Shelby’s system before she got started. She enjoyed the ebb and flow of their shouts for a while before she finally slipped her silk gloves back on, gathered her supplies, and headed upstairs.

At the sound of her approach, the shouts in the guest bathroom abruptly went quiet—only to explode when she opened the door. “What the fuck?!” Shelby demanded, twisting around as best they could in their restraints. With their hands cuffed to the towel bar, they had to crane their neck in order to face her. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Gianna hummed as she deposited her supplies on the counter next to the sink. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean,” they hissed. The handcuffs rattled against the bar as they gestured. “What the fuck is this?”

It was so tempting to take off her gloves and soothe them again, but at the same time, her body thrummed with excitement at their anger. She could definitely get used to this—their defiant scowl, the hint of fear in their eyes … “We’re just having a little fun, that’s all.” She smiled and tilted her head. “Besides, I don’t remember forcing you to be here.”

She stepped back just in time to avoid their lunge, and the cuffs rattled and scraped against the towel bar. “I don’t want to be here!” they shouted. “I don’t know what the fuck you did to me, but—”

“How could I have done anything to you?” she asked innocently, hands clasped behind her back. “You didn’t even take the drink I offered you. You agreed to come here, didn’t you?”

Uncertainty flashed in their eyes, but it was quickly replaced by rage. “I agreed to spend the night, not—whatever this is.” They swallowed as they spotted the supplies on the counter. They took a deep, measured breath. “Just—just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that. Now turn around.”

They backed up against the wall, still facing her with their arms twisted awkwardly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She picked up the kitchen scissors from the counter. “Turn around, or this is going to hurt much more than necessary.”

Their eyes widened, their breaths becoming shallow. “You wouldn’t—”

Without warning, she jabbed the scissors into their arm. They yelped and sucked in a breath. She smiled as she leaned forward. “I said, turn around, beautiful.”

Slowly, they complied, taking shaky breaths as they gripped the bar in front of them. In a way, Gianna did find it beautiful: the way their shoulders trembled, their knuckles turning white, their head bowing in anticipation. The bathroom mirror hung just across from them, so even with their back turned, she could see their eyes wrinkling around the edges as they squeezed them shut.

She snipped the scissors, delighting in the way Shelby flinched at the noise. “Now, stay still,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t want to cut you.”

She teased the blade against their exposed lower back before slicing up their thin, skimpy shirt. As they realized what was happening, they let out a gasp, but they stayed still, stiff and trembling. Gianna smiled; they were a quick learner.

Just for fun, she ran the scissors down the dip of their spine. This time, they flinched, arching their back away. “Careful,” Gianna murmured. She drew the scissors away and admired the expanse of their back, a blank canvas. Reverently, she ran her gloved hand over their bare skin.

They jerked away, pressing into the wall. For a moment, it startled her; she was used to being leaned into, not pulled away from. “Don’t touch me, you fucking creep!” Shelby snapped.

She just smiled. By the end of this, they’d be begging for her touch. She put down the scissors and picked up the belt, folding it over. “Well, if you really don’t want me touching you …”

They caught a glimpse of her in the mirror, and the blood drained from their face. “No. No, no, no—”

“Just relax. It’ll be over before you know it.”

The hard smack of leather against skin startled her, but the cry it drew from their lips was divine. She paused to admire the mark across their shoulder blade. Their muscles rippled as they panted, squeezing the bar tight. “Don’t—”

She hit them again, and again, and again. Power rushed through her—a more raw, exhilarating kind of power than anything her persuasion could give her. By the seventh strike, Shelby was crying. By the twelfth, their legs shook with the effort of keeping upright. Every whine and whimper and cut-off plea gave her chills; it was absolutely gorgeous.

Still, she couldn’t have fun forever, not if she wanted to keep her toy. She stopped precisely after the fifteenth strike, resting the belt in her hand. A thin sheen of sweat glistened over the welts on Shelby’s back. Gianna couldn’t help it; she put down the belt and ran her hand over their shoulder blades. They cried out, trembling as they arched away.

A thrill ran through her, and she grinned. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m about to make this so much better.” She pulled off her gloves and laid them on the counter.

Shelby cowered away. “Don’t.” Their voice was thick with tears. “Don’t touch me.” They flinched as her hand reached for their shoulder.

As soon as her skin made contact, they went limp—knees thudding against the ground, wrists yanking painfully upwards. A pitiful moan escaped their lips as their big, teary eyes gazed up at her.

A surprised laugh burst from her lips; she hadn’t expected it to work quite that well. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” They nodded eagerly, distressed and desperately leaning into her touch. She cupped their face with her other hand, and they melted against her, eyes slipping shut as she thumbed tears from their cheek. “Oh, you poor thing.” She laughed again, feeling giddy. The rude, defiant person she’d met back at the club was nowhere to be found. Shelby was like putty in her hands.

She let go long enough to unlock the handcuffs, and Shelby whined the whole time, as if they’d rather stay locked up for an eternity if it meant she’d never let them go. Their arms fell limply to their sides, and they winced at the pain, their chafed wrists twitching. The remains of their skimpy top slid down their arms, and they didn’t even seem to notice, still chasing Gianna’s touch. She grabbed the spare t-shirt off the counter and helped them into it. Each brush of her fingers against their skin made them sigh.

Seeing them like this was intoxicating. Of course, Gianna was used to people adoring her, wanting to be near her, but this was something else entirely. Shelby followed her movements like a moth drawn to a flame, desperate for her touch. It was incredible; she could easily get addicted to this.

“Come on, sweet thing, time for bed.” She helped them to their feet, and they clung to her side all the way to the bed. They flopped down like a ragdoll on top of the covers, head lolling on the pillow. God, they were just helpless—maybe she should have held her powers back a little … She caressed their cheek, restraining the flow of her powers as she did so. “God, you’re so stupid like this,” she murmured

To her surprise, there was a flicker of something in their eyes, a downward twitch of their mouth. “’M not …” They shook their head, then paused, as if worried Gianna would disapprove.

“Oh, of course not, beautiful.” She smiled as she climbed onto the bed next to them, sitting up against the headboard. She kept petting their hair. “You’re just so good for me.”

Again, there was that twitch in their face, like they were struggling to form a scowl. Their cheek nuzzled into her palm, muffling their words. “Fuck off.”

Gianna’s eyebrows shot up, and she paused in her caresses. “What did you just say to me, love?” she asked, wondering if she could get them to say it again—wondering how far her powers really extended into their psyche.

They sighed against her skin as their hands balled into fists. “I said, fuck off.”

And yet they curled closer to her, their cheek pressed into her hand. A slow grin spread across Gianna’s face. “Interesting,” she murmured. “Tell me, what does this feel like for you? If you have the capacity to explain, that is.”

Their eyes narrowed, and they finally seemed to break out of their stupor. “Asshole.”

She started petting their hair again, and their eyes fluttered shut with a sigh. “Answer my question, sweet thing.”

They exhaled deeply. “It’s like drugs,” they finally mumbled. A pause. “It’s better than drugs. No pain, just … bliss.”

She hummed thoughtfully. Few people knew about her powers, so she didn’t get many opportunities to experiment like this. “So when I take my hand away …”

She dragged her long, manicured fingernails across their back. “Fuck!” They recoiled, shuddering. “Stop!” As soon as she touched their forehead, they went limp again, swearing under their breath.

“Interesting.” She scratched their scalp absently. She never knew her powers could have a pain relieving effect … This could be interesting—in the future, of course. For now, her little toy needed a break. “You’ve been very good, pet.”

“I’m not—” They shivered with pleasure, leaning into her touch, their voice a low growl. “I’m not your pet. I’m gonna call the fucking cops on you.”

Gianna just hummed doubtfully. “And you really think they’ll believe you? You came here willingly. I didn’t force you to do anything.”

They lifted their head, starting to pull away. “You handcuffed me in your bathroom!”

She grabbed their hair and dragged their head back down against her leg. “You let me do that, pet.” She added just a smidge more persuasion as she massaged her fingers against their scalp. “You could leave, if you wanted to, but you’re lying here with me. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.” They didn’t budge an inch.

“You have such a hard time getting along with people, don’t you?” She kept her tone light, but from the way they flinched, she could tell she’d hit a nerve. “But it’s so nice that you’ve warmed up to me like this. Now you have someone aside from that awful sister of yours.”

Her persuasion didn’t linger for long after an encounter. In the long-term, she couldn’t convince someone of something they didn’t already believe. But if Shelby already believed they were unlikeable, if they felt deep down that no one would take their side in this … Well, if they thought that, then it wasn’t Gianna’s fault, was it?

Shelby shifted against her leg, but they didn’t respond. Gianna kept running her fingers through their hair. Their bangs were fried from bleach; maybe at some point she could help with their hair. After all, she couldn’t have her toy looking like they didn’t take care of themself. But that was a problem for later. “Well, you’ve had a long night,” she murmured. “Get some sleep, beautiful.”

They shook their head. “Don’t want to …” A yawn slipped out, and their eyelids drooped. Before long, their breathing grew deep and even. Gianna smiled and kept petting them, dreaming about what else she might do with her new plaything.

~

Tag list: @whumpshaped @paperprinxe @suspicious-whumping-egg @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @toyybox @mommymarichatfurever @cardboardarsonist

[rookthebird]

imagine a villain with memory modification powers.

maybe Hero has some amnesia issues- but Villain has so kindly taken them in until they get their memory back. Villain is so patient, even when any mention of Hero’s old life leaves them with debilitating headaches. Villain listens, so patient and understanding, when Hero shares nightmares of Sidekick overpowering them and wrenching their mind apart. of Sidekick humiliating them and laughing at their pain. Villain is always willing to remind Hero of the horrors they fled, the ones Hero doesn’t remember.

and if sometimes Sidekick has Villain’s face in those nightmares- if, anytime Hero wanders away from Villain, it leaves a gap in their memory- well, Hero has learned not to think about it. It makes their head hurt.

as if someone has reached inside their skull and yanked.

But Villain is always there- so patient, so gentle, so understanding- to take their pain away…